


More Than you Know

by Dawnwind



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for Man without a Past</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than you Know

_"More than you know, man of my heart I love you so,  
Lately I find, you're on my mind, more than you know--"_  
More than you Know by Billy Rose

 

Just like Doyle to tumble into the midst of a hornet's nest without his partner around  
watch his back, and still fight off the bad guys with one hand tied behind him. Bodie  
shook his head in exasperation and shoved Crabbe and Phipps at the first copper who  
came through the car park door.

"All yours, mate."

From the look on the lad's face, Bodie's grim smile was unconvincing. Couldn't be  
helped. He had other, far more important things to do than cuffing a couple of bloody  
criminals. "CI5," Bodie added, flashing his ID. He dashed up the stairs, vaulting them  
two at a time. How the hell had Doyle ended up at Crabbe's house before anyone else  
even knew he was involved with Forrest?

Cheeky bugger should have called in sooner— somehow, he'd managed to uncover the  
bombing suspects all alone, and get worked over in the process.

As usual, Ray had obviously jumped in with both feet, without alerting anyone else.  
Could have rung up his partner, got a bit of help.

A simple "4.5 checking in," and his location would have sufficed.

That Bodie had been prohibited from working the case didn't hold a drop of water since  
Doyle had been fully aware he was already investigating the bombing. He'd all but sussed  
out the entire plot, too, minus a few pertinent details. Bodie had been on such a tear, he  
hadn't given much thought to what Doyle was following up on. Come to it, he hadn't  
thought about Doyle at all until he'd been faced with Cowley's wrath. Which just went to  
show he and Doyle worked far better together than on opposite sides of the fence.

When he reached the top floor, it occurred to Bodie he hadn't heard any reassuring  
ululation of an ambulance. Either London traffic was far worse than average or Doyle  
hadn't managed to ring up Casualty after all.

Apparently everyone else had shown up; the Cow had sent in the cavalry. The building  
corridors were crowded with men from CI5, as well as the Met police and the FBI, all  
slowing Bodie's forward momentum. Their arrival could have been somewhat better  
timed, since he'd beat all and sundry by a full five minutes. And that was without a siren  
and flashing light to part the cars on the motorway.

Weaving around police and over-turned furniture, he pushed aside a couple of pock-  
faced police cadets guarding the apartment, intent on his partner in the kitchen

In the passage, Bodie's nose twitched, some irritant triggering a sneeze that hovered  
maddeningly just out of reach. He rubbed the tip, peering past a set of larder shelves  
barricading what was left of the kitchen door.

Doyle was hunched over on the floor amidst the rubble, eyes closed. His blue-veined  
eyelids looked as vulnerable as a child's, dark lashes smudges over his ravaged face. The  
entire kitchen had been tossed, something Bodie hadn't fully taken in previously, and  
there was a sprinkling of something small, black and aromatic over every surface.

He sneezed and identified the spice. Pepper.

"Eh, Doyle," Bodie called out, visually checking his partner for damage. Bruises covered  
every visual inch of skin. "Bit heavy-handed with the pepper pot, weren't you?"

"Do you mind?" Doyle slitted open one eye, both arms wrapped around his chest as if he  
was afraid to move without support. "I was having a kip."

"Time to get up, mate." Bodie shifted the shelves and stirred up clouds of pepper. He  
sneezed again, and so did Doyle, the unconscious action wrenching a whimper of pain  
from him. Bodie wiped his nose with the back of his hand and pushed the barricade aside  
enough to get to his partner. "Oy, move your arse."

Ray had his eyes closed again, a pained but rueful grimace on his face. "Give me a  
minute." His breathing was too quick, with a ragged grunt that just sounded like it hurt.

"Ribs?" Bodie asked. Hauling Doyle off the floor with a hand-up wouldn't work in that  
case.

"Yeah," he responded shortly. "Head and kidneys, too, no doubt. Very thorough, they  
were."

"Didn't even try to get out of the way, did you? Fists flying and you don't even duck."  
Bodie crossed his arms, lounging against the counter to give Doyle time to sort himself  
out. Didn't do to push him too far. "All that training Father pounds into us gone for  
naught."

"I'll have you know the bloody fool ran me down with his car!" Doyle snarled and the  
anger got him to his knees without help. He braced himself against the cabinets, face pale  
enough to qualify for panto make-up, with the bruises and blood adding garish color.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" Bodie wrapped both arms around Doyle and raised  
him to his feet. Even making every effort to be gentle, Bodie could feel the shudders  
running through Ray's body. He was hurt badly, although Doyle would never, ever admit  
defeat. That hard head was both his salvation and his curse. "It's some sort of sickness  
with you."

"Not my fault!" Doyle insisted. "I was chasing Arthur Bloody Pendle, the bloke who  
delivered the flowers to Gino's. His oppo came at me with a great bloody Ford." Ray  
sneezed again, riding out the pain with a tight jaw. "They must have trundled me into the  
boot when I was out of me head and brought me here." He looked around the kitchen and  
grinned with an accompanied wince. "Which is where exactly?"

"Cromwell Road." Bodie probed down Doyle's side, feeling for broken ribs.

He flinched away, "Let off. I'll have enough of that when I get to hospital, don't you go  
feeling me up, too." Doyle's voice trembled on the last words, the hurt coming through.

"I thought you were going to call an ambulance yourself," Bodie reminded. Now that Ray  
was upright and looking like he'd stay that way, Bodie grappled with the heavy larder  
shelves, moving them far enough away from the doorway to let them get out. The sounds  
of coppers and C15 agents filtered back to the kitchen, but so far no one else had poked a  
head in. The case breaking wide open with links to the FBI and American mafia as well  
as CI5 apparently took precedence over one injured man.

"Knew I forgot something this morning." Doyle pushed off from the counter as if  
determined to walk home by himself.

"Going on seven in the evening, you daft loon." Bodie slipped an arm around his  
shoulders, certain that Ray would push him away. He was more than pleased when his  
partner leaned in for a moment as if shoring up strength. "C'mon, I'll drive you myself."

"Don't put yourself out," Doyle said mildly, a mixture of amusement and relief in his  
eyes. Just the small exertion of walking a few feet had added a shine of sweat to his face  
and he was panting already.

"Planning on going there in any event," Bodie countered.

"Ah, to visit the lovely Miss Sheldon. How's she faring?"

"Improving, according to her doctor." Strange that he hadn't given a stray thought to her  
since he'd found Doyle. She was pretty, sweet and a momentary diversion. Ray was—  
everything else. His entire life, but Bodie would never admit that out loud. Neither of  
them ever did. Too sentimental and far, far too dangerous. It was the kind of thing best  
left for those dark nights when they were the only two people left in the universe.

Keeping one arm around Doyle's waist, Bodie led the way through the lounge past drifts  
of CI5 taking evidence and police dusting for prints. The two bully-boys Bodie had  
grappled with had been taken away for questioning. "Your Arthur—"

"He's not mine. I wouldn't have him."

"Must be the one I saw dead in the car park."

"Slender, dark?" Doyle asked.

"Crabbe shot him." Bodie watched the emotions play across Ray's face until he hid all  
behind an inscrutable expression that was impossible to read. Doyle liked to feign a cold  
exterior but it was all show. He grieved the dead ones, even a low-life like Pendle who'd  
given him a world of pain.

"Mmm." Doyle stopped to take a breath, pressing one arm against his injured chest. "He  
was out of his league, playing with the big boys. Crabbe was the brains, planned to blow  
the building up, with me inside."

"I just may have to visit lock-up later say hello, tell him what I think of his hospitality,"  
Bodie said. He'd meant to keep it light, not let on how much Doyle's injuries affected  
him, but just as Ray's voice had betrayed his pain, Bodie's couldn't disguise his anger.

"Didn't know you cared." Doyle's grin was feral and hard, his swollen lip adding an extra  
element of ferocity.

"Then you're blind as well concussed."

"Not the first time."

"You're completely unrepentant." Bodie tsked, wincing just watching Doyle try to hide  
his discomfort. "Shall I ring for the lift or do you want to take the stairs just for the  
masochistic pleasure?"

"Find yourself funny, do you?" Doyle leaned into him to reach for the call button.

"Hilarious. All the birds say the same." Bodie smiled smugly, perfectly happy to take  
Doyle's weight. The solid wall behind could support both of them. He tightened his grip  
on his partner so that they didn't topple over and brushed his cheek against Ray's curls.  
"D'you know why I was outside the blast range of the bomb last night?"

"Had to take a piss?" Doyle said crudely, lifting off Bodie when the doors to the lift slid  
open.

"Was about to call you, Angelfish."

"Planning to leave Miss Sheldon after the cheese course, were you?" Doyle stepped into  
the lift car and sagged against the back wall, not even bothering to push the down button.

"She was the savory—" Bodie pushed the 'B' for the basement car park, watching his  
partner closely. He fit his hand around the back of Doyle's neck, cradling him. "You  
were the dessert."

"Oh, I like that," Doyle said sharply, the retort bringing back some color to his wan  
cheeks, but he didn't pull away from the embrace. "Bit like being crumbs left on the  
plate."

"You'd never be crumbs, mate." Bodie leaned in, feeling Doyle press against him. The  
kiss was tender and brief, just enough to reconnect. "That there, that was a gourmet  
feast—"

"You ever think of anything besides food?" Doyle complained. He was panting again,  
little whimpers coming out although it was obvious that he was trying to suppress them.

"Sometimes I think about you." Bodie helped him out of the lift with calm efficiency,  
both of them very aware of scrutiny from the police guarding the car park. "In  
conjunction with food. For instance, you quite frequently make me think of an Aero  
chocolate bar, with those frothy curls."

"You do go on and on." Doyle chuckled and then moaned. "Don't do that again."

"Make you laugh?" Bodie had left the Capri unlocked—the keys were still in the ignition.  
He swung open the passenger door and considered how best to fold Doyle in half to get  
him into the seat when his broken ribs were already affecting his breathing.

"Not call me," Doyle said savagely and slid in on his own, his compressed, bloodless lips  
proving how badly that hurt. He was quivering with the pain, clutching the edge of the  
seat as if it was the only thing holding him up. "Heard about the sodding bombing on the  
telly, didn't I? Had to wait three bloody hours to find out where you were, and that was  
with CI5 clearance!" He was shouting, inhaling so rapidly that Bodie could hear the gasps  
between each breath. "Thought you were dead, Bodie." The accent on the last syllable  
was like a knife thrust.

"I was in hospital getting checked out," Bodie said quietly, even though Ray already  
knew that. He sat behind the steering wheel, watching the wrapped body of Arthur Brian  
Pendle being loaded into a morgue van. Stray thoughts went through his mind, the most  
prominent of those was 'now you know'. Now they both knew how terrifying the not  
knowing really was.

When they'd first come together, just a few short months ago, after the nutter who tried to  
kill Ray with the laser-sighted rifle, nothing had been planned or even anticipated. One  
moment they were putting back pints in a pub, the next they were going at it like  
humping rabbits in the dingy alleyway, jumpers tucked up and trousers pushed off just  
enough to expose the important bits. There'd been no reluctance, no surprise in the  
aftermath. Just a sure and steady presence to come back to when the cases were hard and  
darkness was closing in. Neither one had ever said a word about the brief interludes.  
They were just treasured moments in time, to prove that the other had survived one more  
day.

Bodie's aborted phone call would have changed all that—would have totally altered the  
relationship, such as it was. Airline hostess Claire Sheldon was supposed to be on her  
flight for Morocco by midnight, at the airport even earlier than that. Doyle's current flat  
was on the way back from Heathrow. Had all things gone as planned, Bodie would have  
been at his partner's place by quarter past eleven.

Instead, he'd been in the Casualty department, with a doctor shining a light in his eyes.  
Here it was, not a whole day later, and he was taking Doyle to the same place, to have the  
same thing done.

"You want to discuss this now?" It was literally the only thing that he could come up with  
that didn't sound insipid or overly weepy. They didn't fuss over each other, that was the  
rule. If they started analyzing every aspect of what they meant together, he didn't think he  
could face letting Doyle out of his sight in the morning. It was too bloody hard, too  
much—emotion to fret about when each new investigation should be the only thing on  
his mind.

When the white van with the red cross on the side drove out of the car park, Bodie  
followed behind, glad to have something to do besides think.

"No, I don't—I want…" Doyle lapsed into silence, which was very un-Doyle-like. He  
was the one who ranted at the system and railed at the moon. He was the one who had  
turned to Bodie that first time and pulled him into his arms. "What were we going to do  
after you called me—if you'd called me from Gino's?"

"What we always do," Bodie said, relieved to be on more solid conversational footing.

"Yeah?" A rough sweetness threaded through his voice warming Bodie to the core.  
"Same as usual, cuppa tea n' biscuits followed by a slap and a tickle?"

"That's been the routine of late."

"Can't be helped, then. Have to stick to routine or it's all a cock-up." Doyle wrapped his  
arms around his chest and closed his eyes with a wisp of a smile.

"It is indeed," Bodie agreed, smiling back at his partner even though Doyle wasn't  
watching. He'd know. Just as Bodie knew they probably wouldn't talk about this much if  
ever again—until the next time fate stepped in and one of them got hurt. That's when life  
got scary, and he could feel his heart pounding with fear until he knew for certain. Knew  
where Doyle was and how he was.

"We're nearly to hospital. Want me to let you out on the kerb to take your miserable self  
inside or should I escort His Highness in like a proper gent?"

"You can hurl yourself off Tower Bridge for all I care, but if you don't fetch up some  
nurse to caress my fevered brow, I may have to report you to Cowley for  
insubordination," Doyle said mildly without opening his eyes.

"Ungrateful git, I turn up to rescue you and you insult me?" Bodie loved this. Loved  
Ray—and there was another subject that was completely off-limits.

"Rescue me?" Doyle grunted half-way between a laugh and a whimper. "All you did was  
the mopping up, sunshine. I'd already dusted them up and put 'em away for the day."

"Look." Bodie set the brake in the ambulance car park. "We've arrived."

"Give us a kiss then," Doyle said. "And then shove off."

Bodie always followed directions to the letter.

FIN


End file.
